


Triple Choc Muffins

by race-jackson (Race_Jackson23)



Series: and so i am the other half of your soul [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Stress Baking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Race_Jackson23/pseuds/race-jackson
Summary: After three weeks of finding baked goods gifted to him, Steve was starting to think he should talk to Darcy Lewis.alternatively: that one where steve keeps finding darcy asleep in the kitchen and takes her back to her room and she keeps giving him baked goods as a thank you





	Triple Choc Muffins

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyy, another soulmate AU. I'm sorry, but I needed some fluff. Enjoy!

After three weeks of finding baked goods gifted to him, Steve was starting to think he should talk to Darcy Lewis.

It had started one morning in the communal kitchen. He’d awoken early that day and decided to take his morning run through Central Park, returning to have something for breakfast well before most of the others had awoken. After all, he’d bought some bacon especially for that day, and was looking forward to treating himself with it for once. Upon his arrival, however, he found the kitchen not empty as he’d expected but occupied by an unfamiliar brunette sprawled over the bench.

What he could see of her was a mess of baking ingredients and person. All dark hair and pale skin, she snoozed between a plate of muffins and several opened bags of flour. Smears of chocolate covered her arms. There were blobs of butter in her hair from where the strands had fallen into the container while she slept. Her shirt was equally wrecked, stained with flour and butter, and if Steve had to guess, he’d say her pants were too.

Eyeing her uncertainly, he nonetheless made pains to keep his voice down as he called, “Uh, J.A.R.V.I.S.? Who’s this?”

“That is Miss Lewis, formerly Dr Foster’s assistant and now Manager of the R&D floors,” was the A.I.’s reply. “I believe she was, to her use terminology, “stress baking”, but fell asleep at approximately 4 this morning without cleaning up.”

Despite the reproach in his voice, the A.I. sounded fond of ‘Miss Lewis’ nevertheless. The fact that he’d allowed her the peace of sleep when she’d left the kitchen a mess was another clue.

Steve’s confusion cleared up, he still was left with the dilemma of what to do with the sleeping girl in the kitchen. Laid out on the counter he needed to use, he knew he’d have to move her or something, especially since one of her hands were in the sink. So: couch or upstairs?

He inclined his head to spy the couch around the corner, and his decision was made for him when he spotted it and the books and papers that adorned the seats.  

 _Upstairs it is_ , he thought, and Miss Lewis was soon gathered in his arms, not even twitching as he brought her into the lift to take her back to her bed.

A moment in the lift later, and he was walking down the hallway on the floor J.A.R.V.I.S. had directed him to. J.A.R.V.I.S. must have opened the door, too, because it popped open as he stood in front of it. With a nod towards the ceiling, he entered and quickly deposited her in her bedroom before leaving back to the kitchen to clean up and have some breakfast.

And that was that. Or so he thought.

Because while he was out training later on in the day, Miss Lewis had left a basket of chocolate muffins outside his door. The notecard tucked in the top read:

_Thank you for getting me home! My neck salutes you. I checked with J.A.R.V.I.S. about what you were allergic to and he said nothing, so enjoy some triple choc xx_

His face remained impassive as he brought the muffins into his apartment, but if anyone had seen him at that moment, they would have noted how red the tips of his ears were.

The thing was, though, it kept happening. Every few days, without fail, Miss Lewis would turn up conked out in the kitchen in the midst of a manic baking session. Steve, being the Avenger that got up earliest to go on his run _and_ liked to make breakfast for everyone else, was always the one to find her and return her back to her room. And after that, he would always find a basket of whatever she had baked waiting for him with a thank you note.

Except she was ramping it up, in both baked goods and notes.

Like the red velvet cupcakes with the little icing shields on top. Or the chocolate macchiato muffins drizzled with the most delicious caramel topping he’d ever had. That wasn’t even considering the notes. The one that accompanied the triple choc cookies contained a smiley face and a heart but the one with the strawberry shortcake had two hearts _and_ an innuendo about his shield. And the orange poppy seed pound cake note was so flirtatious that he’d nearly choked on a bite of cake.

They’d never shared a conversation. Hell, he’d never even met her before! But he felt warm whenever his mind wandered to Darcy Lewis, as if she wasn’t a stranger but a friend he hadn’t spoken to in ages. Out of place and out of time, and confused about Bucky, it was a comfort he so sorely lacked.

Maybe it was the loneliness that made him latch onto the idea of her, or that she cared enough to make him food and leave him notes, or something else entirely, but Steve Rogers knew one thing: he had to talk to her.

The problem: Miss Lewis was like a ghost.

Steve couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d check the communal spaces – kitchen, gym, labs, even. He’d ask J.A.R.V.I.S. for her location, only to get an “I’m afraid she is currently not on location” as a response. Even asking Jane Foster about her previous assistant had only gotten a distracted excuse along the lines of “she’s busy with her thesis”. If he wasn’t returning her to her bed at 6 in the morning, she literally did not exist.

So he did something … drastic. Well, drastic for him. What Sam would call Extra™.

He staked out the kitchen.

In retrospect, he would like to note, staking out a darkened kitchen in wait of a young woman was probably not the best idea. Especially when that young woman always carried a pretty illegal taser that she wasn’t afraid to use.

At least his soulmark made _much more sense_.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m so sorry! Are you ok?! Fuck, I tasered Captain America!”

“It’s – fine–” he managed to get out between convulsions, “that – thing’s – powerful – though.”

What he could see of her eyes in the dark went wide and she swore again, that time muttering about soulmates and cliched tropes and her terrible eyesight. She helped prop him up until he was sitting and leaning against the kitchen island. Together, they waited as his shudders subsided.

The shudders weren’t why he couldn’t meet her eyes. All of a sudden, he felt that crippling shyness of his youth closing in, that confusing fog of not knowing what to say clouding his thoughts. But then, she gripped his wrist.

And it all faded away.

“You alright there, soldier?” she asked, her voice soft and full of understanding.

“No,” he said honestly, not liking how her shoulders drooped at that but needing to say it all the same. He cleared his throat and added, “But I will be.”

Her answering smile was like biting into a triple choc muffin: sweet, soft and the literal key to heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or kudos to let me know if you liked it! You can find me on tumblr @race-jackson, where I am currently facilitating some Thor love. Feel free to join!


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